


Just A Step Away

by kissoffools



Category: Actor RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shop, F/M, First Meetings, Treat, Winter, Yuletide 2012
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-21
Updated: 2012-12-21
Packaged: 2017-11-21 23:24:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/603200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kissoffools/pseuds/kissoffools
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Andrew isn't crazy about his part-time job at the coffee shop - that is, until a cute blonde becomes his coworker.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just A Step Away

**Author's Note:**

  * For [quintenttsy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/quintenttsy/gifts).



Most days, Andrew hates his job.

He knows that, rationally, he shouldn’t really be complaining. It’s only a part-time gig at a coffee shop in the Village, and his manager’s always good about letting him switch his shifts around when he has to cram for a test or finish up a storyboard. It’s not as if he’s working at Starbucks, where they open at five am even on Christmas. But it’s boring and tedious and means he has to deal with _people_ all day long, which isn’t really his thing. And he knows far more about coffee beans and brewing processes than any aspiring film director should.

Then again, there are days when a cute blonde girl starts her first shift. Andrew rather likes those days.

But those days are usually the ones when he trips over the table he’s wiping down or burns his hand on the latte foam, so maybe they aren’t so great after all. Focusing on work doesn’t come easily on days like that.

If Andrew was any good at talking to girls, there would be no problem. He’d chat her up in between orders, get to know her as they washed out blenders and make her laugh as they refilled the pastry case, and all would be fine. But Andrew isn’t some suave, charming mystery man. He’s shy and awkward, and mostly stays hidden in the background while she and Jesse talk about books and music. The fact that Jesse, in all his neurotic glory, gets more attention than he does from women never ceases to amaze Andrew. Then again, Jesse reminds them all of a puppy dog, and even Andrew can’t be resentful of that.

Andrew’s basically convinced he’s going to spend his entire shift in silence, until two o’clock rolls around.

Two o’clock means break time for Andrew. It’s that middle of the day lull - people in lunch meetings have all left, and teenagers aren’t through with school yet. The place gets quiet and they can clean - and they can also take a break.

He’s outside the shop smoking, leaning against the wall and cursing the New York cold in December when she pushes open the front door and steps out onto the street. She pulls a cell phone out of her pocket and taps at the screen, head tilted down to brace away the wind. He tries not to look at her too much - she’s cute in her black trenchcoat and slouchy woolen hat. He just doesn’t watch her catching him staring like a creep.

But then her head turns and her eyes meet his, and he drops his gaze quickly. Not quickly enough, it seems. He hears her take a step towards him.

“You work here too, right?” she asks.

Andrew tugs on the end of his apron that’s sticking out from below his ski jacket and tries not to be offended. They’d worked together for three hours. “What gave me away?”

One corner of her mouth tilts up in a half-smile. “I’m Emma,” she says.

“Emma,” he repeats. He likes her name. “I’m Andrew.”

“Does anyone call you Andy?”

He breathes out a little laugh. “Not really, no.”

“Can I call you Andy?”

“Sure.” What is he going to say, no? And have the cute new girl decide she’d rather not talk to him at all? Not bloody likely. 

Emma leans against the wall next to him, not too close - she likely doesn’t want to smell like smoke for the rest of her shift. He makes an effort to exhale away from her. Her hands are deep in the pockets of her pea coat, and Andrew wonders why she isn’t wearing mittens.

“So what are you doing here?” she asks, tilting her head towards him curiously.

He raises his eyebrows, looking at the coffee shop behind him. “Making money?” he says, not sure what kind of an answer she’s expecting.

She laughs, her mouth open and a full smile on her lips, and Andrew feels a nice little knot twist in his stomach. He wants to make her laugh all the time.

“I mean, what are you doing _here_. In New York. The accent?”

“Oh!” he says, feeling himself flush a little. Hopefully she’ll chalk his pink cheeks up to the cold. “Grad school at NYU. I want to be a director.”

“No shit,” she says with a tilt of her head. “I’m an actress.”

He shouldn’t be surprised - she’s pretty enough to be one. “Anything I’d have seen you in?”

“Any chance you watch _Gossip Girl_?” she asks.

“I feel like there’s no right answer to this question,” he says, and Emma laughs again. Andrew’s stomach flips over happily. 

“Eh, you wouldn’t have seen me anyway. I’ve done some extra work for them - they mostly stick me in the back with a drink in my hand. It’s not exactly scintillating work.” She looks down and scuffs her shoe against the pavement. 

“Well, it’s a start!” Andrew says encouragingly.

She gives him a wry glance. “I’ve been doing this for three years.”

“Ah.”

They lapse into an awkward silence, Andrew finishing up his cigarette, and he feels badly. Most people in their mid-twenties on their first day working food service generally aren’t where they’d like to be in life. Why’d he have to come off so patronising?

“I bet you were great with that drink, though,” he finally says quietly, and she turns her head to look at him again. He offers her a little smile as he flicks his finished cigarette onto the ground. She reaches out her foot and steps on the end to put it out for him, and smiles back.

“Damn right I was,” she says, and the awkward moment is gone.

Emma pushes herself away from the wall and tugs off her hat, shaking out her messy hair. “All right, Andy,” she says, taking a step backwards towards the door. “Let’s go back to being slaves to the caffeinated masses.”

Yeah, Andrew thinks, following her inside the shop. He’s definitely in trouble.

 

_end._

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Yuletide, Leisha! I found your letter back before assignments, and have had this little treat floating around in my mind since then. Clearly I just couldn't resist! I hope you enjoy it. :)
> 
> Thanks to Cris for the beta!


End file.
